Lost and Found

This place teemed with life like no place I’ve been. Every step put me in danger of hurting something – black and golden grasshoppers by the dozens leapt out of the way, half inch red ants commuted in waves across the dirt trail, butterflies flitted, birds swooped, caterpillars wriggled over branches and up tall grass, salamanders darted underfoot,  startling me as I walked. Birdsong rang out from every direction from one of hundreds of species that migrate through here for the winter.  Soon the Sacaton grass was over my head and I lost the trail, overgrown in a few weeks from the heavy rains of late. I stood still and afraid for a moment because I could not see my way.  But there is a path if you’re willing to dive in and move forward; there are guideposts if you look closely.  I felt small in this resplendent place, unimportant. What is important came into focus. With every bug bite, scratch, and stab of burrs clinging to my pants, I laughed. It felt good to be alive.

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